


firsts

by exactly13percent



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Foster Family, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Literally Too Domestic and Sweet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 19:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21086711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactly13percent/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: "What?""You're staring. Did you mess up?""No."🎃Andrew and Neil have fostered Clara and Riley for a little over a year. It's their first Halloween. It's taken a while for both kids to become comfortable, and tonight is for them.





	firsts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos/gifts).

Sleeping in has never been their thing. The reasons have changed over the years ( _ necessity, survival, practice _ ) but it’s always been this way.

It’s one of the reasons Andrew said they would be perfect foster parents.

Well, he didn’t say perfect. He didn’t really say it, either—it was more of an implied thing, explained in the spaces between other things Andrew said. Andrew’s better at saying things now, but he’s still working on it. They’re always working on it.

Anyway, having kids means waking up early for school or breakfast or any number of things, so it’s a good thing Andrew and Neil physically cannot sleep in too late. Today is a Thursday anyway, so there’s school and routines to start. Neil doesn’t need the alarm that buzzes by his head at six in the morning. He’s already waking up.

Andrew exhales through his nose. He hates getting out of bed, not necessarily because he wants to sleep in, but because it’s bed. With Neil.  _ I don’t want to deal with people,  _ Andrew muttered once. He was trying to take the charm away from basically admitting he only stays in bed to stay curled up against Neil. It didn’t work.

“See you,” Neil says. He slides out of bed knowing full well that Andrew will likely stay in bed until breakfast is out. He needs some time alone.

Occasionally, Andrew will join Neil for a shower. Sometimes he’ll join Neil for more than that.  _ I thought we grew out of college,  _ Neil teased once. Andrew just muttered  _ shut up  _ and sank to his knees. That was a good morning.

Today, Neil makes his way toward the bedroom down the hall. There were originally two, but it had only taken a year for them to decide they wanted one. They split the other bedroom and playroom into separate spaces, like they needed each other in sleep ( _ vulnerable _ ) but needed space when they were awake.  _ Kind of like us. _

When he opens the door, Riley is already awake. He is ten now and his hair is already wild even though it was cut just before school started. Riley has a head of black curls, bluish in the sunlight, and his eyes are a clear gray. He already knows two languages ( _ Romanian, they said, like it was a dirty word _ ) and he’s been pressing Andrew to learn German.

“She went to sleep late,” Riley says. He blinks owlishly, waiting. He still has a habit of waiting, some leftover hesitation and preparation from when the response was always violent. Violently angry or sad. Happy. Neil doesn’t know much about what happened before ( _ before, they call it _ ) but he knows that it was difficult for Andrew to say yes to Riley. Difficult and easy.

Neil nods. “Okay. We’ll wake her up in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Riley slides his phone onto his pillow and gingerly steps onto the floor. He always makes as little noise as possible. He reminds Neil of Jean, sometimes. Less so as each day passes ( _ and that’s the point, right? _ ).

Neil doesn’t have to help Riley through his routine as much as he used to.  _ Ten is an age of increasing independence _ , or so the caseworker once said. Neil had refrained from pointing out that independence for Riley came far before Neil or Andrew.

It’s still early, so Neil goes to the kitchen to make lunch. It’s only when he turns the light on that he sees the two plastic pumpkins on the counter and remembers.  _ It’s Halloween, isn’t it? _

Memories come back in little flashes, like a silver charm reflecting the sunlight as it revolves slowly on a rearview mirror. Neil can almost hear the sounds of Eden’s and the laughter as Nicky raised a glass over Kevin’s head. He can remember another year and Allison smiling brightly as she pulled Renee close, music thumping through speakers.

_ Lunch,  _ Neil reminds himself. He makes sandwiches ( _ peanut butter, lots of jelly for a special occasion _ ) and packs apples, carrots. A cosmic brownie each. Neil wraps the lunches in black handkerchiefs ( _ Renee taught him the folding process once _ ) and stores them in the pumpkins. One is blue and the other orange.

“Is it morning?”

Neil turns around. Clara is awake, but her brown eyes are still a little hazy. Her dark brown hair is perfectly straight, as always. It seems to defy tangles ( _ thank God, Andrew said _ ) and any method of containment they try to apply to it. Clara is seven and Neil thinks everyone including Riley would willingly lay their life down for her.

“Yeah, honey.” Neil crouches. Clara is kind of like a cat ( _ Andrew said that, like a revelation, and Neil laughed and laughed _ ) and she needs even ground. Neil is patient. “Did you sleep okay?”

Clara rubs her eyes. She doesn’t watch like Riley does, but her gaze is heavier when she does. Andrew said it reminded him of Neil ( _ he didn’t say after Baltimore, but it was implied _ ) and that’s why he asked for her.

“Kinda,” Clara says. “I was too awake. It was hard to fall asleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Clara finally inches closer. She wraps her arms around Neil’s neck, hands clasped at his back.  _ How can something simple make you feel right?  _ Clara’s voice is muffled against Neil’s shoulder when she speaks again. “Is dad awake?”

“Not yet.” Andrew is Clara’s favorite. Neil understands. He also enjoys the way Andrew seems softer when he’s with Clara, like Andrew doesn’t think he’s too jagged to handle her. When Andrew’s with Clara it seems like he forgets everything else and he’s just  _ dad _ . “Want to wake him up?”

Clara pulls back. She shakes her head solemnly, rubbing at her eyes again. “He’s probably sleepy. Dad gets tired sometimes. He needs sleep.”

“Yeah, honey.” Neil thinks his heart is mush. He never really understood the concept before. “Let’s get dressed, okay? Maybe he’ll be up by then.”

🎃

Taking care of kids is a group effort. They went into it knowing that and they are reminded every day. Group effort, however, means that sometimes the group needs to compensate for a member that needs a break.

Andrew loves having kids. He never thought about it and never thought it would be true. Someone broken was the least fit person to have a child ( _ he told himself over and over _ ) and Andrew was definitely broken. Put back together, maybe, but ragged all the same. You can’t hide the cracks in the glass. The image will always be warped.

Still. It was weird to see Kevin and Wymack being father and son. It was stranger to start believing—to start thinking that maybe it didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

So, Andrew loves having kids, but he also needs time to be alone. There are days he just has to have a quiet place. This morning isn’t bad, but it’s enough for him to stay in bed for just a few more minutes while Neil starts the day. Neil starts the day and Andrew knows it is okay—it is fine for Andrew to stay in bed and it is fine for Neil to look after the kids alone. It’s fine that Andrew needs time to be ready.  _ How else do we teach them,  _ Neil once asked,  _ except by showing them? _

Andrew gets up when he hears the kitchen vent, a low hum in the distance. Breakfast is starting and he doesn’t want to miss it. 

Andrew leaves the bedroom and immediately finds Clara, eyebrows pulled together in a determined line as she marches toward the kitchen with a backpack nearly as big as she is.

“What are you doing?”

Clara stops in her tracks, eyes wide. She is already grinning when she turns around and Andrew is bending down before he can think about it. Clara hooks her arms on Andrew’s shoulders, giggling; he pulls her up and pats her back.

“I told Riley I could do it,” Clara announces proudly. “I’m getting stronger! Like you!”

“Are you?” Andrew lifts the backpack in his right hand and makes his way past the kitchen, toward the living room. Neil turns to look. His blue eyes look soft. He’s smiling, lingering on Andrew and Clara before he returns to making breakfast.

“Yeah.” Clara studiously combs Andrew’s hair with her fingers. “Dad, you need a haircut.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Clara glances toward the kitchen and pats Andrew’s shoulder to stop him from walking back. Andrew pauses, waiting. Clara grins and waves him closer. Andrew complies and Clara whispers in his ear, “You gotta do it. Daddy likes it!”

_ I might have a heart attack. _ Andrew nods sagely and walks them toward the kitchen. “I guess I have to, then.”

Clara giggles secretively until Andrew carefully sets her down at the table. Riley is already there, biting at his bottom lip while he painstakingly pours glasses of orange juice. He very purposefully sets the carton down and screws the lid shut before walking around the table to hug Andrew.

“Morning, Dad.”

“Morning.” Andrew pushes his fingers through Riley’s curls ( _ he’s like Neil, so much it’s impossible _ ) and thinks about how they once tried to brush them. Clara had laughed so hard and Riley had smiled for one of the first times.

Riley lets go and turns to drop a kiss on Clara’s head before he stows the juice in the fridge. That is what Riley has in common with Andrew—he loves Clara more than life itself. But it seems like everyone does.

Andrew makes his way to Neil, who is in the process of finishing two neat plates of French toast. Neil smiles before Andrew has his arms around him. He’s practically grinning when Andrew kisses him. “Hey.”

Andrew hums in response. Sometimes it feels like Neil is a battery and every time Andrew kisses him, he recharges.  _ Stupid. _

“Daddy, why don’t we get to wear our costumes to school?” Clara asks.

Neil makes an excited noise before he pulls away from Andrew. Andrew squints at him and says, “Don’t.”

Neil grins and looks right at Andrew when he says, “Because your principal is a totalitarian that has no joy. It’s okay, though. He’s leaving this year. Next year, you can dress up at school.”

Clara’s nose scrunches. “What’s a toad...toad alley…”

“Your father is a fool,” Andrew says, dry.

“You still like him,” Riley says shrewdly.

Neil cackles. Andrew smacks Neil’s stomach ( _ why does he still have abs? _ ) and slides around him to snatch a piece of toast. He dips it in powdered sugar before Neil can stop him and shoves it in his mouth. Neil rolls his eyes and finishes the two plates he’s making.

“Okay. Eat your breakfast and don’t forget to brush your teeth. Dad’s picking you up today so you can get dressed for trick-or-treating,” Neil announces.

“Dad!” Clara exclaims excitedly. Andrew closes his eyes for a second.  _ My daughter is adorable. _

Breakfast is a blur of happy chattering, mostly from Clara, and the second-best French toast Andrew has ever had ( _ Jean makes the best, Neil agrees _ ). They pile into Andrew’s car once teeth are brushed ( _ come here and let me check, Neil says _ ) and then it’s off to school while Neil uses the Bluetooth audio to play spooky songs via his phone.

Andrew watches the kids when they leave the car and walk up the steps to school. Riley holds Clara’s hand the entire way and Andrew knows he walks her right to her class door, as always.  _ I’m her big brother,  _ Riley said once.  _ I’m supposed to take care of her.  _ It took months for him to say it and believe it, but Riley and Clara are close. Closer than Andrew ever expected them to be.

It gives him hope.

🎃

Neil pokes himself with a needle because he’s distracted by the way Andrew looks lounging on the sofa, glasses reflecting the brightness of his phone’s screen. “Ouch.”

Andrew looks up. “What.”

“Just the needle.” Neil shakes his head and finishes three more stitches before he ties off the thread.  _ I didn’t think I’d be great at sewing because I stitched up bullet wounds. _

Andrew hums quietly. It’s a music day; that’s what Neil calls them, the days where Andrew hums more than he talks. Sometimes, Andrew just needs music. He has to recharge, a little distant from life, and let himself relax into his own body. Being happy is still alien to Andrew ( _ to both of them _ ) and it can be overwhelming.

Neil contemplates the fabric in his hands. Clara wanted to be Rey for Halloween.  _ She said she liked how strong Rey was. She wants to be strong like Rey. Like Andrew. _ Neil said okay and then he’d looked up patterns and tutorials and sat with his head in his hands for a minute while Andrew snickered.  _ I’m still doing it,  _ Neil said.  _ I know,  _ Andrew said,  _ you’re stubborn like that. _

Riley said he would be Poe.  _ Poe helps Rey,  _ he said.  _ And my hair is kind of like his.  _ Neil has the feeling Riley doesn’t feel any way about Halloween, but he definitely loves Clara and her excitement is infectious. Riley insisted on painting a blaster they bought at Target; he worked on it meticulously, a tiny brush in hand and paint pooled into an empty egg carton.  _ I want to do it myself,  _ he said.  _ Like you do the costumes. _

“What?”

Neil looks up at Andrew. “What?”

“You’re staring. Did you mess up?”

“No.”

Andrew raises his eyebrows. He shuts his book ( _ something in German, he wants to remember it _ ) and moves closer to Neil. “Looks good.”

Neil shrugs. “I hope so. She’s excited.”

“Yeah. Riley asked if we wanted him to go with her.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

Neil stares down at the tunic in his hands and bunches it together.  _ I know it hasn’t been long. I can’t be mad. I’m not. _ He isn’t mad but he feels...something. _ Maybe it’s before that I’m angry at. _

Riley used to offer to do things all the time. He would ask in a roundabout way, as neutrally as possible. He’d offer to clean, cook, look after Clara. Like Andrew and Neil didn’t want do anything and the safest thing was to offer before something bad happened. It took about six months for Riley to stop asking as much, but it never completely stopped. Neil hoped it was changing, at least a little.  _ We’re not finished. Maybe we never will be. But we’re close. _

“They’ll be out soon,” Andrew murmurs. “Sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yeah.” Neil sighs, exhaling all of the anxiety housed in his chest.  _ It can be simple if you make it simple.  _ “I have to pick up candy and a few other things.”

“Okay.” Andrew taps Neil’s wrist.

Neil smiles a little. They had to come up with rules and reminders when they first decided to bring Riley and Clara in to the house.  _ Don’t be too handsy in front of them. Don’t do anything for a few months while they settle. No kisses until three months in, be careful, be aware. _ Andrew’s tap on the wrist is a question. Neil answers, leaving his work on the arm of the sofa while he turns to Andrew.

_ How many years?  _ Neil doesn’t care to count. They have been together, they are together, the will be together. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Neil kisses Andrew and he feels years at once. He feels what it means for time to be happening not in a line but continuously; Neil feels like he is at Palmetto, his first kiss shocking and tentative and blissful. He feels like he’s in a shower with trash bags on his arms, desperate and relieved and hopeful. Neil feels like he is standing in a living room on New Year’s, surrounded by friends and holding Andrew’s face in his hands like no one else exists.

Andrew pulls back slowly. Neil follows him for a moment, wanting just a little warmth to take with him. “I love you,” he says. “All of the always.”

“I love you.”

🎃

Andrew has his window rolled down. He rests his chin on his arm, waiting, music low on the car radio as he sits and waits for Riley and Clara.

He used to listen to his music loud, so loud it could drown him out. It did drown him. He wanted it to, wanted to drift and sink to the bottom of everything where nothing could touch him. He wanted the nothing without nothing.

Then there was Neil, and Andrew would occasionally turn the music down by one or two numbers so he could hear when Neil spoke about something. Anything. Andrew would listen even when he didn’t want to, unable to stop himself from tuning in to Neil and away from the radio.

Now, there’s Clara and Riley. Andrew still needs his music but they’re music, too, voices rising and changing all the time as Andrew listens. He listens to them talk about school and friends, and he listens to them talk about little somethings like lizards on the playground and a particularly good peach for lunch. Nothings, but somethings. Somethings because Andrew cares about them, and the kids care.

The bell rings across the street. Andrew shifts in his seat, preparing. The buses are lined up and the line of cars waiting is long. Andrew taps his fingers on the steering wheel, humming to the music while he waits. After a few minutes, they emerge.

Riley is holding Clara’s hand just like he was in the morning. He walks patiently with her, nodding as he looks both ways twice as he leads her across the way. Riley and Clara stand far enough away from the crossing guard, close to the edge of the other kids they walk with. They cross quickly and follow the sidewalk exactly how they are supposed to, right to Andrew’s waiting car. Riley pulls the door open and waits for Clara to get in.

Clara shoves her backpack across the back seat and follows it quickly. “Dad, I saw a bird today!”

“Really? What kind?”

“I think it was a raven. It flew into the window by accident.”

“Imagine that.” Andrew smirks.

Riley ducks into the car. He doesn’t make a sound when he sets his backpack on the floor of the car. Andrew takes a moment to look him over, checking. He doesn’t linger but Andrew and Neil have an understanding that Riley isn’t fine just because he is with them. He might be fine now, but it doesn’t mean he always will be, and they want to be sure they can help if Riley needs it.

“Is daddy home?” Clara asks.

“Seatbelt,” Riley reminds her. He pulls Clara’s hair out of the way while she buckles herself in.

“Dad, is he?”

Andrew starts the car. “No. He had to buy a few things for tonight. Do you have everything?”

“Yup! Ry made sure,” Clara says. She pats her knees to an unehard rhythm and looks out the car window, bright eyes flickering over the students outside.

Andrew nods and slowly pulls away from the curb. He’s done this a thousand times but it always feels strange—like he is doing it for the first time. Andrew always gets nervous ( _ and he is never nervous, not exactly _ ) and drives slower than he’s ever driven before with the kids in the car. Neil once turned to Andrew when they went to the school and asked  _ who are you and what did you do with Andrew Minyard? _

Riley wants to say something. Andrew can tell; he can see Riley staring out the window harder than he has to, like if he does, he’ll find the answers to every question he has. Coaxing it out of him won’t help. Neil and Andrew learned the hard way that Riley doesn’t respond well to being noticed, especially when Riley thinks he’s going to get in trouble.

Andrew waits. He waits and three red lights later, Riley finally speaks. “Are we having dinner before we go out? I’m kind of hungry.”

Clara’s head whips toward Riley. It’s obvious anyway that Riley isn’t asking for himself. He eats, obviously, but he never eats much. When Neil and Andrew first brought him home, the case worker said to go slow ( _ they didn’t think he’d eaten for two days _ ) and they had. They’ve been going slow for a year. Riley still isn’t quite up to the appetite of most kids.  _ Maybe he never will be. _

“We’ll go out.” Andrew wonders if Neil is home yet, or if he’s out navigating the crowds at the stores with the same pragmatic single-mindedness he’s always had. “You get to choose.”

“Really?” Clara squeals. She visibly restrains herself from leaning out of her seat, ducking her head like she’s waiting for something ( _ a hit, probably a hit, Andrew saw it on day one and had to take a moment to himself _ ). “But it’s not a birthday. Or a family day.”

“Yeah.” Riley has a wrinkle between his brows. He’s confused ( _ there’s nothing special about Halloween, right _ ) and wary. “Unless…”

Andrew sighs. “You caught me. Dad doesn’t feel like making dinner. Besides, you’re going to get buckets of candy today. Might as well.”

Andrew can already hear Neil chastising him from the passenger’s seat.  _ Don’t say ‘might as well,’ Drew, you’re teaching them bad habits.  _ It doesn’t matter. Andrew doubts Riley and Clara are capable of picking up bad habits yet; they’re still navigating their own habits and the differences living with Andrew and Neil.

“Did Daddy finish the costumes?” Clara asks hopefully. It sounds like she’s been dying to ask since she got in the car.

Andrew laughs shortly. “Yeah, he did. Why don’t you change before he comes home?”

“But Dad.” Clara glances at Riley like she’s looking for reassurance. She stage whispers, “You can’t do my hair. You’re bad at it.”

“Don’t pull your punches,” Andrew says, snorting. “I know.”

“I can do it,” Riley says immediately. He swings his legs a few times before physically stopping them with his hands. “I mean, I want to do it.”

_ He’s like you,  _ Andrew said once.  _ Bad at asking for what he wants.  _ Neil had shrugged and pressed a kiss to Andrew’s forehead.  _ Then we’ll teach him. _

“Okay. Take your time.”

Andrew pulls into the driveway. Clara and Riley wait until the car is parked and off before jumping at the doors; Riley already has his house key in his hand. They’re excited ( _ a rare sight _ ) and Andrew is content to walk behind them, watching them dart into the house and toward their bedroom. 

Andrew barely shuts the door behind himself and locks it when Clara pops her head out of the bedroom, dark hair swinging like a curtain. “Dad! Can we play music?”

“Go ahead.”

Andrew stows his keys in a box by the front door and pulls his shoes off. He can hear familiar notes drifting from the bedroom down the hall.  _ Spooky scary skeletons.  _ It brings back memories of a neon-lit club and a very different time. Different people. Andrew wonders what the others are doing, in their different places. Kevin’s probably wearing a costume more expensive than most peoples’ rent, but Jean probably made it. Jeremy is probably taking pictures. Allison and Renee are definitely going out. Matt and Dan are probably taking Serina around the neighborhood; they said she wanted to be Wonder Woman. Aaron probably has rounds at the hospital, but he’s also probably wearing Halloween scrubs.

_ We should meet next Halloween. _ Andrew goes to the kitchen and pours a glass of lemonade from the fridge; Neil helped the kids make it a week ago.  _ Maybe Riley and Clara will be comfortable meeting other kids. Our friends.  _ It’s been a crazy year since Neil and Andrew made this decision. It would be nice to have everyone around.  _ It would be nice to show them how many people would take care of them if they needed it. _

Family. It’s not a word Andrew ever expected to believe in this much. It’s not a word he thought would be his.  _ I have a family. _ He thinks maybe he’s learning as much as Clara and Riley are.

🎃

Clara is positively delighted at the concept of eating at McDonald’s in her costume. Neil just grins as he holds the door to let her in the car. He taps Riley’s hand ( _ makes sure Riley sees him first _ ) and says, “Her hair looks good. You did a good job.”

Riley smiles. He doesn’t answer ( _ it takes time _ ) but he nods as he climbs into the car. It’s only five o’clock and not dark yet, so there aren’t many people out. Most houses on the street are decorated but a few are empty and dark, younger couples out to celebrate elsewhere. Most of the post-workday traffic is clearing. There is an aura of anticipation in the air, like the whole world is counting down until the sun sets.

Andrew usually hates going into fast food places. He’s not a fan of cramped spaces and too many children ( _ I can only handle two, Andrew said when they first started considering fostering _ ) but he makes a valiant effort. Andrew specifically makes the effort, Neil knows, because Clara looks like she’s won the lottery. Her grin could probably outshine the sun. It’s a funny picture, Clara holding Riley’s hand while she practically bounces up and down as they wait in line.

The tired cashier takes one look at Clara and smiles despite their obvious exhaustion. “Is that Rey?”

“Yes!” Clara shouts. She very nearly jumps in the air; Neil watches her struggle to contain herself, schooling her expression into something only slightly less ecstatic. “I am one with the Force!”

Neil covers his mouth with his hand.  _ It took her forever to memorize that.  _ Andrew swats at Neil’s elbow but Neil can practically see the little hearts in Andrew’s eyes.  _ He’ll never admit he has a favorite child but he does. _

“Go ahead and order, honey,” Neil says, after he manages to collect himself.

The cashier gives Clara a pumpkin sticker ( _ she promises to put it somewhere safe because it doesn’t match her costume _ ,  _ oh my god _ ) and when their orders are done, Neil ushers everyone toward an empty table at a back corner. It’s nice to be away from most of the action, even if only for a little while. It means Neil can indulge in his habit of people-watching and Andrew can indulge in his habit of Clara-listening.

Dinner is usually a process. Neil and Andrew decided that it would be a good way to help the kids get used to them at the beginning. It wasn’t until they made tacos that required chopping lettuce that they realized it was probably a good idea to keep knives out of the picture for at least a few months. Trust is never easy.

Food is food, though, and sometimes it’s tiring to have two kids to look after while also trying to look after yourself and each other. It can feel like an endless loop of worry. Sometimes, though, things like this happen. Things like Clara grinning and talking without hesitation, Riley swinging his legs and resting his chin in the palm of his hand like he forgot to worry about being yelled at for having his elbows on the table. There are moments like this where everyone is too happy to be sad and they are the moments Neil thinks he’ll remember more than anything else.

The order is called and Clara insists on going to help Andrew. Neil watches them go, smiling as he thinks about what will happen when Clara is old enough to go to the gym.  _ She’s going to make it her life’s goal to outlift Andrew. I know it.  _

“Dad?” Riley is so quiet Neil almost doesn’t hear him.

Neil looks over at Riley and reminds himself not to frown.  _ Doesn’t matter if it’s confusion. It won’t look like it.  _ “What is it?”

“I didn’t…” Riley glances toward Clara and Andrew. They’re waiting for something. The rest of Riley’s words come out rushed, like he’s trying to be quick and secretive about it. “I didn’t do well. On the test, yesterday. We got them this morning.”

“Okay.”  _ Is that what he’s been bothered about today?  _ “You know, we won’t get mad if you don’t do as well as you think you should at school.”

“But what if I keep doing bad?” Riley’s eyes dart up at Neil and then back to the table. “What if I’m never good?”

Neil shrugs. “I had to stop taking some classes when I was in college because I couldn’t handle them.”  _ I was also being hunted, but that’s besides the point.  _ “Not everyone is good at every subject, or any subject.”

“But I have to go to school.”

“Yes.” Neil glances at Andrew. He seems to guess something is happening; he stops to let Clara pick up napkins. “But if it’s hard for you to do it with everyone else, we can do it at home. If you need it.”

Andrew and Clara are close. Riley seems unconvinced, but he doesn’t look as tense as he did before.  _ Small steps.  _ Neil taps the table and waits for Riley to look up. “Hey. We can figure it out. We can figure anything out, okay? I love you.”

_ How hard was it to say that before?  _ Neil isn’t sure when  _ I love you  _ became as simple as  _ hello _ . It doesn’t really matter, either—what matters is that he can say it and he needs to, especially for Clara and Riley. They need to hear it as often as possible, in as many scenarios as possible.

Andrew and Clara reach the table. Clara neatly stacks ketchup between her and Riley, then adds a few paper packets of pepper. “We got spooky pies, even though we’re having candy,” she announces. “They have pumpkins on them.”

“Careful.” Riley helps Clara tuck away some of the fabric of her costume, avoiding the little cups of ketchup. “Put some napkins on your lap just in case.”

“Anything bad?” Andrew murmurs, leaning into Neil.

Neil shakes his head and starts to unwrap burgers. “No. We can talk about it later.”

For now, they’re enjoying Halloween. It is simple and easy, and there are all the other days in the year for Neil and Andrew to teach the kids that they aren’t expected to do anything but be happy, if they can.

Riley reminds Clara to be careful with her ketchup and fixes her hair when the wispy strands stick to her forehead. Neil watches them interact and wonders  _ did we do that? Did we show them how to take care of one another? Did we show them how to love? _ He’s still not sure how much he and Andrew did and how much Riley and Clara already knew.  _ Maybe it doesn’t matter. The only thing I care about is that they can be happy with us. _

Neil is just grateful that they have trick-or-treat to look forward to. Clara is practically vibrating in her seat by the time they leave and she insists on listening to  _ Spooky Scary Skeletons  _ on loop. Andrew just gives Neil side eye and says something about  _ junkies and their mood music _ , but Neil just raises his eyebrow in a silent reminder that Andrew has a playlist for when he lifts.

It’s dark outside when they leave. Neil leans against his car door and looks out the window, imagining what his friends are doing. He could close his eyes and hear their laughter.  _ I have to call everyone tomorrow.  _ He never would have, in a past life. Neil has learned to call when he wants. Maybe it’s distance that taught him. Neil is further away from the only people he has ever cared about and because he has them to care about, he misses them. Misses them enough to call.

It’s kind of nice having a family.  _ Who would have thought? _

🎃

Clara insists she’s fine but after two stumbles, Andrew crouches in front of her. “Will you let me pick you up?”

“I’m not tired, Dad,” Clara insists. She barely has enough energy to add protest to her inflection.

“Okay. But what if I want to carry you? Can I?”

Clara pauses and looks down at her feet as if she is considering her options. Neil and Andrew taught the kids early that you have to ask, and you can say no. They know the rules well by now. Andrew waits for Clara to decide. “Okay,” she finally says. “Because you want to.”

Andrew doesn’t have the desire to voice it ( _ yet _ ) but holding Clara is one of the only pure, unmarred joys in his life. There is nothing else to it; Andrew wants to hold her and she allows him to. Clara is already dozing off two minutes later.

Neil smiles when he glances over at them.  _ There’s another joy.  _ “Think we can take tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

It may be a Friday and a school day, but Andrew has the itch to have the kids at home, and he knows Clara will be wiped out. It’ll be nice to have them at home for once, all day, while Andrew isn’t busy.

They reach the front door of their house within three minutes. Their trek around the neighborhood was a leisurely one, especially with the number of kids stopping Clara to exclaim over her handmade costume. Andrew can’t count the number of mothers that stopped them and eyed up Neil.  _ How cute! Two single dads!  _ Andrew had to stand there and marvel at the obliviousness of straight people while Neil grinned and looked like he was laughing on the inside as Clara exclaimed  _ they’re both our dads! They’re not alone! _

Neil unlocks the front door when they arrive. The pumpkins are set on the kitchen table and Neil shrugs his jacket off ( _ he always forgets to leave it by the door _ ) as he walks. “Riley, if you want candy before bed—”

“I’ll wait for Clara.”

Andrew catches Neil’s eye as he walks Clara to the bedroom. Neil looks like he’s stuck between hugging Riley and crying. Neil never really cries and Riley isn’t a big hugger, so Andrew watches Neil nod uselessly. “Okay. Get changed for bed, then.”

Clara is basically asleep on her feet as Andrew gets her ready for bed. He knows the answer ( _ well, suspects, _ ) but he still asks, “Need help, honey?”

“M-hm.” Clara doesn’t even nod. She looks like she can’t focus and her eyes blink at random intervals.

Andrew carefully helps Clara out of every painstakingly-made piece of her costume. She yawns the entire time, rubbing her eyes like she wants to be awake but can’t make her body obey. It reminds Andrew of when Neil is home from practice and stubbornly trying to stay conscious enough to pepper Andrew’s neck with kisses.  _ Go to sleep, junkie. I’m not going to disappear in the morning. _

_ You never know,  _ Neil says, so Andrew always lets him get away with it.

Neil is already in the bedroom when Andrew carries Clara over. Riley pulls his sheets up over his body as Andrew tucks his sister in, making sure to keep her arms free of the sheets. She’s the kind of sleeper that only uses sheets to get tangled in, and her preference is to be as uncovered as possible.

Andrew leans over Clara to press a kiss to her forehead. “Night, angel.”

“Valkyrie,” Clara corrects sleepily.

Andrew glances at Neil, uncertain. Neil helplessly mouths  _ it’s new  _ and smiles. He gives Clara a good night kiss and follows Andrew to the door. Riley isn’t particularly affectionate. He makes Andrew think of himself in a lot of ways. He’s still not sure what to feel about that, or what he feels about his ability to help Riley come out the other end.  _ I had Neil and everyone else. How can one person be enough for him? _

“Night. I love you both,” Clara murmurs sleepily. She only slurs her words a little.

“Love you too,” Andrew replies. He means it.

Neil is starting to pull the door shut when Riley says, “Hey, Dad?”

Andrew watches Neil freeze. It takes Neil a second to reply, “Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Andrew thinks he can hear Neil shattering into a million pieces. It sounds kind of like wind chimes. Neil just nods and manages to say, “Night, Ry.”

As soon as the door is shut, Andrew turns to look at Neil. “How you doing?”

“Andrew, I might cry.”

“Well, wash your face before you shove it on me. And don’t get into bed unless you’re in pajamas.”

Neil grins. His fingers dance along Andrew’s hips as he shifts to stand in front of him and Andrew already knows he isn’t going to refuse this. “Maybe we should both take a shower.”

“They’re asleep, not deaf,” Andrew mutters under his breath.

Neil chuckles. He bumps Andrew’s nose with his and Andrew allows it, a contented kiss that feels just the same as all the others but new, too.  _ Not one person,  _ Andrew belatedly realizes.  _ Riley has Neil, too. Neil and me. _

“Come on,” Neil murmurs, tugging Andrew toward their bedroom. “Shower time. I can cry about how much I love our kids.”

_ Our kids.  _ “Yeah,” Andrew says.  _ I forgot how good that sounds.  _ “You and me both.”

“You don’t cry, Drew,” Neil teases softly.

“First time for everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello i hope you enjoyed this because boy am i bad at writing kids i feel like i just make tiny adults


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